Every Man's Worst Nightmare  And Greatest Dream
by Eliza4892
Summary: AddisonIzzie. The two women bond over men and tequila.


In the end you will say that this is all Alex's fault. That's what you'll tell George when he looks at you funny as you walk through the door the next morning, instead of out of it, wearing last night's clothes. That's what you'll tell yourself every time you walk into Joe's bar and see Addison sitting at the bar, drink in hand, and you feel drawn to her. It's all Alex's fault. And if he knew what you did he probably wouldn't mind taking the blame in exchange for the opportunity to get in on it.

Which is the first and foremost reason why he will never, ever, know what happened.

The problem, or at least the initial one, is you have a tendency to be nosy as well as sympathetic. You can sense when a person needs to talk and Addison had those vibes radiating off her long before you walked in. So you sat down, you ordered a drink (tequila, because you've gotten used to it after months of living with Meredith) and you waited for her to start up a conversation.

All you got was a nod from her and a casual, "Dr. Stevens," aimed your way as a greeting.

Silence ensued until you knocked back two shots of liquid courage and finally got into that slightly looser state of mind where lines get crossed because they don't seem to exist and no topic is off limits. You weren't the only one either because Addison seemed to be in that slightly dizzy state of mind as well. This was problem number two.

"So what's bugging you?" You finally asked, and Addison looked your way in a slightly exaggerated manner that you found just a little too amusing, before she went back to staring at her drink.

Addison remained there for a moment, contemplating something. Then she laughed, quietly at first, then louder, to the point where Joe was throwing a sideways glance Addison's way that you were sober enough to know meant he was seriously considering cutting her off in the very near future. "My problem is men," she said, just prior to tossing back the remains of her tequila shot (because apparently that was Addison's poison of choice too tonight). The glass collided with the bar in such a way that was meant to prove a point of some kind, or accent it at least. "My problem is Alex Karev."

You're fairly sure your jaw dropped and your eyes widened or something equally as cliché, but you really hadn't seen that coming. Although now that you think about it, it would explain a lot of his actions lately. "You're having sex with Alex? Am I the only one not dating my boss?"

She was laughing again, this time more pathetically. "If I was having any sex, at all, would I be here right now?" Addison asked. "Not that you aren't fabulous company, but right now I really need some sex."

This caused you to giggle as you emptied your own glass. This is a conversation you kind of wished you would remember the bulk of tomorrow morning because it might be fun to tell Meredith. But you won't and it's probably better that way. Instead you think back to your experience with a certain fellow intern. Quite clearly you remembered making a similar statement to George. Smiling, you replied, "Been there, done that." You then set about making eye contact with Joe, a silent plea to refill your drinks. Surprisingly, he did so, albeit begrudgingly, and you knew it was just a matter of time before he sent you both packing. Glancing over at Addison, you watched her suck on the lime wedge that you hadn't noticed (connecting the dots later, you'll realize Addison had been doing tequila shots before you arrived), with a guilty look on her face. "You haven't slept with him yet? At all?"

Addison rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No he says he's not interested. He actually took me into one of the supply closets to tell me he wasn't interested. He flirts right back but apparently that's all in my mind."

"That means he is interested," you decided, a certain tequila induced confidence in your voice. "He's just playing hard to get." A tactic which seemed childish, until you realized that until recently Alex had possessed the maturity of a five year old. So of course he was playing games.

"You think?" There was a mix of hope and utter confusion in her tone.

"I do," you told her, reassuringly, because a) you were trying to make her feel better, and b) because you knew Alex couldn't resist anything in a skirt. Addison wore a lot of skirts, you mused. "I mean have you seen yourself? If he'll have sex with Olivia then he definitely wants you. You're like five steps up from her. He's totally interested."

There was a pause, and then the redhead kind of half turned, hair falling in her face, and leaned slightly closer. Right into personal bubble territory, not that you really minded. "Are you interested?" Her expression was dead serious, as was the invitation she had just extended.

Getting from point A to B isn't something you remember much of, although you remember both A and B very clearly. It's all the shuffling in between that's missing. All you know is somehow you ended up in Addison's hotel room, at the really really expensive hotel you can't remember the name of. At the time the name was familiar and you realized that as the same hotel Callie was staying at.

It wouldn't really be the first time you got caught, because the first, last, and you thought only, time you did this, your boyfriend walked in. Not one of your best moments, but you were modeling, and it was med school, and it all didn't seem like a big deal then. Or now, because you're about to do the exact same thing again, just minus the boyfriend.

You ended up pinned between the wall and Addison, her lips against yours, on your neck, your shoulders. You kissed her back, of course, because her lips were warm and willing and you needed this, this contact that you've been missing. The faint traces of lime on her lips makes her taste bitter, sour, which summed up the spirits she was in nicely.

One of her hands, still cold from the chilly weather that had greeted you outside, slipped under your shirt, and you shivered, as she brushed her fingers over your breasts, through your bra. You moaned into her mouth, letting her know that was what you liked, that was what you wanted, and she pushed you into the bedroom, onto the bed, because that was what _she_ wanted.

"We're going to regret this in the morning," you said against her lips, and you're right, and you will, but you don't care. You just thought it deserved to be said. That and the silence, peppered with slight moans, was making you crazy.

"We're not going to remember this in the morning." Addison countered, and with the amount of tequila that was in the both of you, she probably wasn't wrong. So maybe the aftermath of all of this won't be so bad after all. It's just sex; neither of you are looking for a lifetime commitment and an exchange of vows. You're just two women who have had a little too much to drink, and are more than a little tired of the male half of the species.

So maybe it isn't a big deal. Maybe you won't even feel bad about it, should you remember it this time tomorrow.

Besides, it's still all Alex's fault.


End file.
